For Her Chrno
by windwhisprer
Summary: [CxR oneshot] He couldn't die, he wouldn't die until he had saved Joshua and destroyed Aion. But then, on that night, Chrno messed up.


**A/N: **Yes, I know, it's odd to see me start a long fic before the oneshot, but eh, that's just how the cookie crumbles. But, I would like to say this, to me, and to everyone reading this. HAH! I DID IT! YES! GO ME! I FIIINNNALLLLY GOT A CHRNO CRUSADE ONESHOT IDEA THAT DIDN'T COMPLETELY AND TOTALLY SUCK! MUHUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! YES! GO ME! MUHAHAHAHAHA!

(cough) And on with the story.

**For Her Chrno**

Chrno was a perfect demon. He was an example of utmost perfection. Once his rage had grabbed hold of him, he was unstoppable. Not one demon could get it's claws in him. He was an unstoppable killing machine. Perhaps that was what Aion saw in him. Perhaps that was what Sister Kate feared the most. Whatever it was, no one could deny the fact that at full power, Chrno could challenge heaven itself.

Pursuers were never a problem for him. He shredded them. Tore them apart. He couldn't die, he wouldn't die until he had saved Joshua and destroyed Aion. But then, on that night, Chrno messed up.

She could feel him. Not only that she could see the trails and trails of blood as it led far from the scene of the fight, but she could feel his emotions. Why didn't he come home? She knew she wouldn't understand until she found him. She continued on, following the connection she had with the devil. She knew he was dying, and, so did he.

She passed through the major parts of New York, and all the way through Central Park. She didn't know how long she had been walking. Hours? Days? Months? It didn't matter. With every step she took, she was getting closer. Closer to him, closer to helping him.

Her feet were blistered from walking so long. She had shed her boots, and now her feet ached from stepping on rocks and shards of glass. They were bleeding, but she didn't care. She walked for so long. She didn't know when she began crying. She could feel him. He wasn't crying, he wasn't sad, but she was. He had accepted his fate. She was stopped by a few homeless, asking if she could spare any change. She walked by them, her heart set on finding him. She had to find him, and she would, she convinced herself thus.

He was praying now. Praying for forgiveness. Praying for her. Praying for him. Was it jinxed for a devil to pray?

She collapsed several times, exhausted. She had to press forwards though. She was almost there, she could feel it.

It was dark just outside the New York city limits when the blood lines started to mesh into several blood pools. He had stopped here, she realized. Stopped to rest, but continued to press onwards. He wanted to get away. There was worry. Worry that he wouldn't make it. He didn't want to make her cry, this was obvious.

She came across his coat, and had picked it up. He would want this back, she reasoned, telling herself that he was going to be okay, and pressed onwards.

Finally, after it seemed like the sun was about to rise, she found him. A collapsed heap on the ground, desperately clinging to life. She dropped his red, stained coat and ran to his side, dropping to her knees, tearing her dress in the process.

"Chrno!"

He rolled over, and looked up at her. He was dying. Even for a devil this was too much blood to lose. He could still make it out of this! She reached for the pocket watch, to find it not around her neck. She realized in horror that she had forgot it back at the Order in her desperation to find him. "No!" she cried. "It's going to be okay!" And she clutched him to her chest, sobbing uncontrollable. She rocked him back and forth. Her devil. Her Chrno. He wasn't going to die. It was all going to be okay.

"Rosette," he wheezed, as his eyes slowly began to close. "I'm sorry."

That was it. He died. She couldn't save him. She continued in that exact position, rocking him back and forth, whispering sweet nothings in his ear. At some point, she told him she loved him. She told him that she wanted to grow old with him. She told him that she often wondered what it would be like if they spent their lives together, but knew it was impossible.

How long did she sit there, telling him this? For hours and hours. When the order came for them, and tried to take him from her, she screamed and kicked. She pulled her gun and threatened to shoot if they touched her devil. Her Chrno. She held him all the way back to the order. She stayed by his side before they told her she had to leave.

At his funeral, she was there. As was Satella, Steiner, and Azmaria. That was it. Either no one else cared enough to show up, or they were far too afraid. She stood hours after the funeral procession, staring at it. She wanted to hold him in her arms again. She wanted to braid his hair. She wanted to hear him say her name. She wanted to be by his side again.

She left a single white rose at the grave. For her devil. For her Chrno.


End file.
